


A Study In Tablets

by casofsuburbia



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Crossover, Gen, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casofsuburbia/pseuds/casofsuburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam are zapped to Central London by Castiel. He later explains that Crowley flew here and they needed to find the other half of the angel tablet. Sam thinks Sherlock might do them good. </p><p>It ends up getting more complicated than it has to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study In Tablets

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what to do for a title, lol. Anyway, I thought this up after I finished Thirteen Reasons Why. Excuse you, I needed to stop being sad. 
> 
> Purely crack. :DD Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine; I'm very sorry.
> 
> Thank you [ Sashi.](http://twitter.com/vulcancameos) For this idea. I love you. <3
> 
> ~*~ I appreciate reviews. ♥ ~*~

The Winchesters and Sherlock Holmes were stuck in a diner, trying to work a case in central London. Sam thought it had something to so with the angel tablet, and Castiel was more than okay to poof them to Westminster. Sherlock seemed to be intrigued by the odd murders, which Sam directly linked to Crowley's demons, and thus, them working together. They chose a booth near the door; Sherlock sat near the window, Sam sat beside him, and Dean sat opposite them.  
  
"I haven't ate in days."  
  
"Eaten." Sam and Sherlock chorused.  
  
"Shut up! I don't need this." Dean grabbed his plate- a nice, greasy cheeseburger laid perfectly in the center. "Come to papa," he said as he clenched it in his hands and brought it closer to his mouth.  
  
"Your brother is disgusting." Sherlock eyed the greasy mess of meat, cheese, and bread in Dean's hands while he read the local paper. Dean glared in his direction.  
  
"What?" He said, breaking Dean's gaze and looking down at his paper.  
  
"He's right though. You have no idea what that does for your cholesterol levels." Sam looked at his brother in concern as he gnawed off a large bite.  
  
"You know little brother," his mouth was still full of partly chewed burger and small chunks flew from his mouth to Sherlock's paper.  
  
"Ugh. Samuel, does your brother even know basic table manners?" Sherlock hissed.  
  
"As a matter of fact, I do." Dean replied, swallowing. "I'm not going to be stuck eating like a goat when I have burgers in front of me."  
  
"They're just regular burgers, Dean." Sam said, poking at the lettuce and tomatoes on the garden salad he had.  
  
"Do I look like I care about what you think of my relationship with burgers?" he said, holding a hand up as if to stop Sam from talking. He was met with silence. "That's what I thought." Dean continued to munch on his burger.  
  
"Morning." The bell on top of the doorframe rang, revealing a man with grayish hair, much shorter than rest of the people in the diner. He wore a white, knitted sweater and focused his eyes immediately on Sherlock seated beside Sam.  
  
"John. Take a seat." Sherlock said, still busy scanning the paper for more murders. John took a seat next to Dean.  
  
"Who are these people, Sherlock?"  
  
"We're working a case."  
  
"Hm." John replied, shrugging it off.  
  
"Hi. I'm Sam, Sam Winchester." He reached his arm out across the table to shake John's hand. "Nice to meet you."  
  
"My pleasure. John Watson." He smiled back at the hunter.  
  
"That's Dean." He gestured to his brother, still sloppily eating his burger while gazing dreamily out the window.  
  
"The burgers here are  _amazing_." John looked at Dean with wide eyes. Dean didn't seem to mind.  
  
A flutter of wings. Dean shifted his view from the window to the door.  
  
"Hey, Cas."  
  
"Cas?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow and turning around.  
  
"This is Castiel," Sam explained. " _Angel of the Lord_. Zapped us here."  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"Yeah, with the wings and Heaven and stuff. They're dicks, though." Dean explained.  
  
"I will pretend I did not take offense to that."  
  
"Whatever, hot wings. You know you're different though." Dean smirked at the angel before winking at him.  
  
"Is... Are they..." John started, afraid to offend either side, so he addressed it to Sam.  
  
"They practically are. Except that they're both too chicken to admit it."  
  
"Hey." Dean and Cas chorused.  
  
"Anyway, I am not here to discuss my feelings, Sam." Castiel narrowed his eyes at their table. He later slipped half of what seemed like a stone out of his coat and placed it on the table.  
  
"Again?" Dean asked, wiping his mouth.  
  
"Naomi sent angels to retrieve it from me. I was outnumbered. While we were tugging on it, I thought it would be wise to break it in half."  
  
"What is this  _tablet_ nonsense?" Sherlock took a quick sip of the coffee cooling on the tabletop.  
  
"This  _nonsense_  was written by prophets from long, long ago. The demon tablet, in example, tells everything about demons and how to shut the gates of Hell for all eternity." Castiel answered, slightly annoyed by the disbelief on Sherlock's face.  
  
"Ooh, sounds wonderful." Sherlock grinned sarcastically. "What about the murders?"  
  
"Demons are possessing and killing locals in search of the tablets. The angels are picking up the trails and are...  _interrogating_  the demons. It's a vicious cycle of killing." Castiel explained, matter-of-factly.  
  
"I feel like I'm in a Twilight book, ugh." Sherlock groaned.  
  
"This is serious business." Castiel said, furrowing his brow out of annoyance.  
  
"Oh. I'm sorry I don't believe in fairytales."  
  
"Sherlock!" John exclaimed.  _Sherlock, stop being rude._  
  
"Dean." Cas said, turning his head to the hunter. "We  _need_  to talk."  
  
"Excuse me." He smiled as he squished himself between the table and John's lap. John. It was a nice name. He was attractive too. And a military man. Dean wasn't attracted, of course he wasn't.  
  
Of course, he usually lies to himself about his feelings too. From where he's currently standing, he's between his  _least_  favourite angel and a really  _not_  attractive British guy.  
  
"In private." Castiel held his wrist tightly, pulling him into another empty booth on the opposite side of the diner.  
  
"Hm. John, we should do  _that_  more often. I'm feeling jealous." Sherlock imitated the tone of a typical teenage girl, jealous that her boyfriend was eyeing another girl.  
  
Sherlock wasn't jealous though. Sherlock didn't care who caught John's attention. Especially not that disgusting Dean boy.  
  
"What?" John said, breaking out of a trance he was formerly unaware of. He was staring at the hunter and the angel, talking, faces too close. The two looked unaffected by the fact that  _friends_  aren't usually comfortable with their noses almost touching while having a conversation.  
  
Sam saw John's stare and traced it back to his brother and Cas. He tried explaining, "It's a profound bond thing."  
  
"Why are we working with them?" Castiel said.  
  
"I'm on the other side of the room and I can hear you." Sherlock shouted. Everyone in the diner turned their attention to him. "Excuse him." John smiled apologetically at the crowd. Castiel glared.  
  
"Hey, I know he's," Dean said, eyes darting to Sherlock, "well, a dick. But Sam trusts him. I trust my brother, Cas. I'm pretty sure you trust me, too." Dean held Castiel's gaze, not wanting to see those blue eyes disappear off to nowhere again. He needs Cas.  
  
"That is true." he replied, slinking back into his seat.  
  
"They know this place better than us. We'll find half of the angel tablet faster this way."  
  
Cas grunted softly in surrender.  
  
"Don't worry, Cas. That John guy, he seems to keep Sherlock in tune. It'll be fine after a while." Dean was looking back at John, transfixed at the way his eyes crinkled and his lips opened while he argued with Sherlock.  
  
"You like him. John." Cas folded his arms.  
  
"No, no..." Dean bowed his head, partly from embarrassment.  
  
"You do." And with those words, both of them seemed to find interest in the red-and-white checkered floor.  
  
"Aw, Cassy. You jealous?" Dean looked up to see Cas blush at his words.  
  
"I end this conversation. Let's go back to  _John_." Castiel rolled his eyes at the mention of his name. Dean was his, he marked him. He went to Hell for him. Dean belonged to him. They have a profound bond.  
  
"Don't worry, Cas. I still love you most.  _Mwah._ " Dean said jokingly, blowing a kiss in Cas' direction.  
  
They walked towards the group again; Castiel was still in a bad mood while Dean was all smiles.  
  
"It's too loud here. Everyone's talking too much about things that don't matter." Sherlock said, annoyed. "Let's go to our flat, shall we?"  
  
For some odd, wonderful reason, Cas zapped the Impala there with them as well.  
  
"Baby's looking  _good_  on these streets. Are we considering living here, Sammy?" Dean asked, opening the door and slipping in.  
  
"Hm. Maybe." Sam looked over his shoulder to steal a glance at Sherlock. He was intelligent, wise- straightforward and plans two steps ahead. He would make a good hunter. He likes working with Sherlock, because they're so alike yet so different at the same time. He wants to know more about the only consulting detective in the world.  
  
"I'll take a cab." Sherlock said.  
  
"Just get in." Dean replied, halfway between sitting down and standing up.  
  
"Please, Sherlock." John felt like a mother watching over her whiny-ass child.  
  
"Yeah,  _please, Sherlock."_ Dean repeated, earning a small laugh from John.  
  
The ride to 221B Baker Street wasn't too long, but it was silent. Castiel surprisingly insisted that he should ride with them,  _just in case any demons show up._  
  
If demons had the name of John Watson, Cas sure had to protect them.  
  
Sherlock got out of the car and opened the door. "Mrs. Hudson! We have some guests!"  
  
"Be there in a minute, Sherlock!" she shouted from the kitchen. John gestured for them to hang their coats by the door, meanwhile.  
  
"Oh. Who are these fine, young men?"  
  
"The tall one is Sam. The stupid one is Dean."  
  
"Hey!" Dean looked like a kicked puppy at this point.  
  
"And that other one in the suit is an angel."  
  
"A real angel?"  
  
"Yes, a real angel." Sherlock replied, mockery in his tone.  
  
"His name is Cas." Dean retorted.  
  
"I'm Castiel. I am... pleased to meet you." he said, giving a smile that bordered more on creepy than warm. Mrs. Hudson didn't seem to mind, but instead thought of him as a  _sweet, young man._  
  
"Are the extra bedrooms still free?"  
  
"I'll go fix it up. You boys get comfy." Mrs. Hudson rushed up the stairs, broom and rag in hand.   
  
"So, who's sleeping with who?" Dean asked.  
  
"You make it sound so perverted."   
  
"Well, I'm sorry,  _Mr. Detective._ "  
  
"You are such a baby." Sherlock and Dean seemed to dislike each other.  _Greatly._  
  
"Okay, you two." Sam intervened, gently patting both of the men's backs.  
  
"Let's all have a seat, shall we?" John offered.  
  
"John and I have to be in separate rooms."  
  
"Why?" John was startled.  
  
"So you both used to sleep in one room?" Dean got curious. And slightly jealous. Cas and him had never slept in one room,  __  
because Cas never frickin' slept.

"And your point is?"  
  
"Nothing, easy there, cowboy."  
  
"We have to have a hunter and someone who knows central London in a room. It's safe that way." Sam explained. "If someone gets nabbed while we're sleeping, the demons will probably take the other one in the room too because they wouldn't take the chance if you were awake. Me and Dean could fight those demons pretty well, but we wouldn't know our way back or around town, at all. You two are the opposite."  
  
"I think we get it, Sammy."  
  
"At least  _he_ gets it."  
  
"There is  _no_  way in hell that I am sharing a room with," Dean pointed to Sherlock, "him."  
  
"I'll stay with him then."   
  
"Yeah, go do that, Sammy. Hey, John." It was in this moment that Dean realised this man had the same name as his father. Why it took so long, Dean didn't know.  _Fucking hell._  
  
Dean would seek approval from any John he was able to meet. Because the name was one thing they shared with his father. And he didn't get that approval from him. He got,  _Take care of Sammy._  Which he's more than glad to do, but sometimes it hurt how much his father cared for Sam and did the complete opposite with him.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Where's the room you'll be staying at?"  
  
"I'll just show you later." John smiled. "Tea?"  
  
"Yes, please." Dean reached forward to get the cup from John, and he could feel Castiel's gaze burn on his skin.  
  
"If you don't mind, Dean. I would like to sleep tonight." Castiel said, totally out of the blue.  
  
"Since when did you need sleep?" Dean asked, confusion on his face.  
  
"I would like to try it."  
  
"Are you sure this isn't you being jealous?" Dean put that stupid smirk on his face again, making Castiel's cheeks flush red.  
  
"No."  
  
"Well, okay. You can sleep next to me. Can three people fit in a bed, John?"  
  
"I suppose. We'll make it work."  
  
"That's great." Dean smiled at John, and at Cas but the two men had different expressions on their faces— Castiel was sort of  _angry_  
and blushing, while John was calm and maybe slightly confused.  
  
 _This would be interesting._


End file.
